When Trashy Met Classy
Day Zero
“You wouldn’t last a week in my job.”
“I wouldn’t want your job, not for a week or a day or an hour.”
“No, you don’t understand. I’m saying you couldn’t do it, even if you wanted to. You’re too soft.”
“I could to do it,” the heiress said with a pout.
“I don’t think so,” the other girl said. “I just don’t believe you.”
“I could to do it,” the heiress said again.
“Oh ho. You think you could do it, do you? So are you ready to put your words to the test?”
“What do you mean?”
“You and I, we’re the same height and the same size so how ‘bout we do this. How ‘bout we make ourselves a little bet. How ‘bout you and me switch places. You put my clothes on and I’ll put on yours. You try and do my job and I’ll do whatever the heck it is that you do and we’ll see if you’re up to the task of doing what I do.”
“Yeah, and what’s in it for me?”
“That’s a good question. How ‘bout we make it a bet. We switch places and if you pull this off, free maid service for the next full year, no questions asked, but I can tell you right now, that ain’t going to happen.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re weak. Inside of a week, you’ll be begging me to let you out of the bet but I ain’t going to do that. I’m going to enjoy seeing you try to do my job.”
“So what’s my side of the bet then? What do I have to do if you win?”
The girl seemed to think it over and then she smiled slyly. “If I win,” she said, “if I win, you gotta give me a million dollars.”
“I’m not going to give you a million dollars.”
“That’s because you’re weak. See, I already knew you were going to back out of it.”
“I am not backing out.”
“So you accept the bet,” the black girl said.
The heiress bit her lip. “I don’t know.”
The young maid smiled. “See what I mean? You just can’t say yes or no. You’re weak.”
“I am not weak.”
“Then you accept the bet?”
The heiress looked about nervously. “You’re on,” she said. “I’ll show you. I’m not weak.”